By the Light of the First Full Moon
by Aromene
Summary: Naturally, the twins and Legolas are not responsible for the collapse of half the moon platform. As they say, time wears all things down.


**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not strictly Tolkien's. Therefore it must be Peter Jackson and Co's.**

**AN: This is one of those times that the summary just came to me when I really wasn't looking for fic to write. Everything else I've had rolling around in my head is dwarven related, so I guess the requisite 'elf' fic was going to come along eventually. That amount of damage in Rivendell was just too good to pass up. Also, I'm incredibly lazy and did not date count for this, so the centuries are a little wonky. I'm sorry.**

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They do not begin to carve into the mountain walls themselves until after the buildings are constructed. Shelter, running water and provision for food are more important for a sanctuary than ought else.

It is only later, when they have the time that Elrond begins to look around him and decide that there are other things they can do with the valley. It need not be a sanctuary only. Perhaps, one day, it can even be the home he has never truly had east of the sea.

Elrond has already been a master of lore and counted amongst the wise for some yeni, though he is young for it. There is no one better at the languages of Arda or the uses of herbs than the new Lord of Rivendell. It is baring this reason, above all others, that he is lord of this mountain realm in the first place. Gil-galad trusted no other to see to the midlands.

And so Elrond amasses a library to rival any east of the sea, with books sent from Líndon and Lórien and the Greenwood. Books copied from other cultures and peoples. Histories of the races of Middle Earth, preserved in a single place and Elrond is their master; at least in name, though Erestor is their keeper.

The idea of a viewing platform high up in the mountain walls, above the trees and with the best view of the skies from west to east, is actually Lindir's idea. He enjoys stargazing perhaps more than even the average elf, but Elrond takes to the idea immediately. It is hard labour and they are blessed still to have dwarven allies to call upon as craftsmen. Mountain rock is their purview and although Elrond can envisage what he wishes in his head, he cannot bring it to life in the stone.

It takes months of hard labour, chipping into the rock. First to build a passage through the solid walls up to the highest waterfall and then to carve out a platform high above the haven below. Months, nearly a year, before it is safe for those other than the dwarven builders. It is a summer night when Elrond is called upon near sunset to witness the completion. He loses count of the steps to climb up to the heights, lost in the sensation of being surrounded by rock; something not comfortable for an elf. He breathes a sigh of relief when he comes out into the last rays of the setting sun on the wide lookout. It is nearly forty feet wide, as he asked, carved into a natural formation in the rock. Around them spills the water of the highest falls and below them twinkles the first lights of evening in the buildings below.

And above and beyond them is the sky.

'It is quite the climb,' Lindir huffs.

'But for the view,' Elrond returns in answer. Neither elf can take their eyes off the heavens.

'It will do,' the stargazer agrees.

Time wears all things, even stone. Over the yeni the outer edges of the circular platform begin to crumble, piece by piece. At first it is only small pieces, no larger than a fist. But one winter, a thousand years after Elrond first stood on its surface, a crack appears near the western edge and when spring arrives it crumbles away leaving a half-moon concave in the larger round.

It is no great trouble, though Lindir is not the only one to grumble about the lasting construction of dwarves.

After that first winter, it is as if an avalanche is triggered. Nearly every time Elrond or Lindir venture up to stargaze they find another piece missing. Slowly the half-circle that forms the outer lip of the cave disappears, creeping ever closer to the central pedestal. This was the greatest craftsmanship of the dwarves; the solid crystal gleams in sun and moonlight alike and works as a platform for Lindir's telescope and a table for Elrond's star maps.

More years passed. Wars are won and lost and time erodes memories much more slowly than mountains.

There is still, however, quite a bit of flooring left when Legolas Greenleaf first ventures up to the place, Elrond's twin sons in tow. There is considerably less of it a week later.

xxx

Legolas is on his first visit to Imladris as emissary of his father. Thranduil and Elrond have not seen eye to eye in more than an age. Though messengers have traversed the mountains between the two elven havens for more than two thousand years, they come seldom and leave quickly. Elladan and Elrohir have paid only one visit to the Greenwood. Elrond is particularly unsurprised that it took another two yeni before Thranduil trusted his son to survive a visit to Rivendell. Understandable, as the Greenwood had barely survived the twins.

Naturally, though the trees of the Greenwood grow high, they cannot reach to the heavens in the ways that mountains can and though Legolas has now crossed the high pass of the Misty Mountains, to stand above Imladris is a thing that few can claim. It is only a night after his arrival when the twins usher the blond haired elf to the start of the stone passage that leads to the heights above.

'But it is a cavern, and dark.'

'It is a passage and we have light,' Elrohir returns. 'And you live in a _cave_,' he says with emphasis. Legolas does not look at all comforted by this fact.

Elladan lights the torch he carries from the one that always burns next to the entrance and delves into the darkness. It is a long way up, but he does not look back. He has walked this route many times, since he was still considered old enough to venture up alone. Up and up the carven stairs spiral. They are worn nearly smooth from the passage of yeni and footsteps, even the soft tread of the Eldar. Finally there is a glimmer of light ahead and they emerge onto the platform in the light of the rising moon.

Legolas seems stunned. He stands well back near the entrance to the passage, while the twins venture forwards to inspect the edge, as all who visit usually do. They note there are a few more pieces missing since last they were there. Nearly half the far edge of the circle has fallen to the valley below now, leaving only a few feet on the far side of the pedestal.

'It's perfectly safe, Greenleaf. Just don't stray too near the edge.'

Slowly, as if waiting for the ground to cave way beneath him, Legolas ventures forwards to the crystal table, but no further.

'You've never seen the platforms above Lórien, I keep forgetting. They're almost as high as this.'

'But they are in the trees. This is stone and it is not the same.'

Elrohir shrugs. He is as used to stone below his feet and about his world as Legolas is to trees. 'But admit it, the view is better here. No leaves to get in the way!'

'Yes, I will give you that much,' the Greenleaf relents, gazing out at a sky lit by moon and Varda's stars.

A sound behind them causes them all to turn. Lindir emerges from the passage. 'I did not realise the high seat was occupied.'

'Sorry Lindir. We'll be going. We just wanted to show it to Legolas,' Elladan explains.

'Something you have not seen before Prince Legolas?' the star gazer asks.

Legolas looks back out towards the vast air beyond his feet. 'Nothing such as this have we across the mountains. But I see why you like it so, Lord Lindir.'

'There is nowhere better for stargazing, tis true. Walk carefully on your way down, my Prince, for it is a steep path,' he nods to the dark whole in the wall of the mountain behind him.

They take that as their cue to leave. Legolas keeps one hand on either side of the passage as they slowly descend back to the valley below, comforted to have Elrohir in front with the torch and Elladan behind. The Noldori can keep their high seats for star gazing. Legolas will keep his forest.

'We'll take you up during the day too, and then you can see the whole valley. Ada had the buildings designed in a certain way. You can only tell from up top though. I don't know why, because he had the dwarves build that place long after he built the city.'

'Perhaps your father was thinking of the future.'

Elladan shrugs. 'Who knows what adar things about most of the time? Nothing in this yen, I'd warrant.'

Elrohir laughs, but Legolas can understand the words between the lines. Many know that Lord Elrond has the gift of foresight, and one can assume that when he is not looking beyond the present he finds his thoughts much lost in the past. Certainly Legolas' father is that way. All the elves of the early ages are. They have too many lifetimes before their eyes and thoughts in their heads. And most of them wish for a time long past. Legolas is still too young to understand what that must be like, as the twins are as well.

Arwen is standing at the entrance to the passage below.

'Seler,' the twins greet her in unison.

'Were you bothering Lindir?'

Elrohir adopts a wounded look as he puts out the torch and leaves it propped next to the entrance for the next elf to venture upwards. 'Would we ever do such a thing?'

Arwen does not answer. Even Legolas knows the answer to that question. 'Ada wondered where you'd gotten off to. I think he feels you are likely to lead the Prince into some sort of trouble.'

'We'd never,' Elladan promises.

Legolas snorts softly. No more than he did to them, when they were in his homeland. Arwen seems to have a similar idea.

'Well, he is in his study and you can tell him that yourself. I bid you goodnight, and you Legolas,' she bows her head. Legolas returns it.

He does not quite understand Arwen. She is unlike any elven maid he has ever met and even dissimilar from the others who dwell in Imladris. She reminds Legolas a rather great deal of her father, which is sort of off-putting. Still, he knows his father would never hope for such a match. They'll have no half-elven princess in the Greenwood.

xxx

The movements of Arda were common enough along the mountain ranges. But they happened rarely to human time scales and it was only the elves that could reckon back far enough to remember what years there had been a more serious one. Even Elrond could remember few times where quakes had done more than minor damage to Imladris.

At first, the quake that struck during Legolas' first visit was thought to be minor. As routine, the inhabitants checked for damage; cracks or toppled rocks, but found nothing of note. As the rocky promontory that held the moon table had never suffered damage from a quake before, Elrond and Lindir thought nothing of checking it.

And, indeed, the twins and Legolas found no obvious damage when they went up to the lookout to escape Arwen's presence a few days later.

Legolas finally admitted to the twins that he enjoyed the high view of the sanctuary. As his father's halls are inside caves and underground, there are no heights such as this from which to view his home. Being able to watch the slow movements of elves and animals through the valley is very relaxing.

'Think she's gone for that ride yet?' Elrohir breaks the silence. The twins are lounging in the shade near the stairwell entrance.

'I have not seen her leave, ' Legolas reflects from his perch near the broken edge of the ledge. He has finally overcome to worry of tumbling rocks to view the valley below.

'Best give it a bit longer than,' Elladan concludes.

'Are you in a hurry?' his brother asks.

Elladan props himself up a little further from his slouched position again the rock wall. 'No, but neither do I wish to remain up here all day.'

'Point,' Legolas agrees. He turns back to observe the valley below. 'Ah, there she is. She and Lord Glorfindel appear to be leaving.'

'Excellent news,' Elladan says, jumping up immediately. 'Let's see if there are any cakes left in the kitchen. ' He is already heading down the stairs into the dark interior.

'All he can ever think about is his stomach. Dwarf!' Elrohir calls down after him.

Legolas' laughter is cut short as the earth rumbles for a second time that week. 'What _is_ that?' the prince asks Elrohir, keeping his balance easily on the trembling rock.

'Father says it is the land moving still; that when Arda was created it was not yet complete, so it still continues to change. He believes that the mountains came to be because Melkor and the Valar waged a battled between one side of a valley and another and the tempest was so great when they collided that it threw up the mountains.'

'We do not have quakes such as these in the Greenwood, but I think I understand Lord Elrond's reasoning.'

'Really, because I don't,' Elrohir admits. 'We better catch up with Elladan or he'll eat all the cakes!'

'Good idea,' Legolas says, moving towards the stairwell. In an instant the ground he has stood on the moment before cracks and with a deafening roar disappears below. Legolas is left standing by the moon table that now lies on the edge of the ledge. Blow, he and Elrohir can hear the collision of rock against rock.

'That's never happened before,' Elrohir says.

'Is it likely to happen again?' Legolas asks, not daring to move.

'Better get over here just in case.'

On silent and swift feet Legolas joins the dark haired elf in the stairwell. 'We should go down.'

'Good idea,' Elrohir echoes.

They race down to the bottom of the stairs through the darkness. Elladan is standing at the bottom, not a stone's throw from a large pile of scattered rubble.

'Are you well?' he asks immediately.

Other elves are gathering already. Elrond pushes his way through the crowd to join his sons. 'What has happened?'

'You appear to be missing half of your viewing platform, ada,' Elrohir tries to joke.

They all look up at the jagged edge two hundred feet above.

'You are well? All of you?' Elrond asks, ignoring the attempt at humour.

'Legolas was the closest,' Elrohir says, shoving the attention away from him and his brother

'I am quite well, Lord Elrond. Simply startled, that is all. I was not standing far from the table when the rest of the ledge collapsed. It is like a rock fall in the mountains that I have seen.'

Elrond sighs in relief that no one is injured. 'I think it best that no one ventures up there again until Glorfindel and I have accessed the situation. Understood?' he looks pointedly at his sons.

'Yes ada,' they repeat together.

'Perhaps you could find a less precarious place to spend the afternoon, in case there are further quakes. That is for all inhabitants. There may yet be further rock falls. Please avoid this area for now.'

The twins need no further encouragement to visit the kitchens.

xxx

The ledge is dutifully inspected by the few elves that dwell in Imladris that have some knowledge of building and construction. It takes a week and no further quakes before they declare they can find no issue with what remains of the rock. There is less of a ledge now that hangs over the air below; most of the half-circle that remains is founded in the rock wall below and unlikely to tumble down. Elrond finally ventures up to find that it is still more than usable and at least the crystal table is intact.

'I do not often notice the passage of time, but occasionally it is brought home to me in rather obvious ways,' Lindir explains.

Elrond can only agree. 'It has been nearly thirty-five hundred years since the dwarves carved out this place.'

'Rock should last,' Lindir huffs.

'Nothing lasts,' Elrond says, gazing out over the valley. It has been four thousand years since he first came to these lands and founded Imladris. That is a long time even for an elf. 'Still, Meldenir does not believe it will suffer much more damage in years to come. It is still usable for its intended purpose, Lindir, and that is all we can hope for after so long.'

'Yes, as you say. Still, perhaps it would be better if it was restricted to its intended purpose only. I know the twins often come up here to escape.'

Elrond sighs. 'Yes, perhaps that is best. They can find another hiding spot, I am sure.' Though he does not go on to mention that that then means he must discover their new hiding spot. 'Let us go down, mellon nin, or we shall waste the night away wondering on the passage of time.'

'Isn't that how you spend every night?' Lindir says, only half in jest.

'More than I should, I suppose,' Elrond reflects.

Lindir has not seen so many years as his lord, nor dwelt in the valley so long, but that does not mean he cares for it any less. 'We are getting old, I think, lost in our thoughts more than our actions.'

'It has been that way for some time, Lindir. I do not think anything will change that now. But someone must have a care for the past and an eye to the future.'

'And that has always been your duty, my lord.'

Elrond inclines his head in the flickering light of the torch as he descends the stairs. It may be his duty, but it is his honour as well. Four thousand years this has been his home, and though he longs for a time of rest someday in the far future, he is content enough. Four thousand years and they are still here, and the valley is still hidden. Time may pass, but some things will not change.

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**I still don't really know where this came from. But I wrote it in January 2013.**


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